Answer
by Ruko-Senpai and Riko-San
Summary: Two years after the battle with DeepGround, the WRO offers to help people who had been victims of ShinRa's horrific experiments. Lila Crossway is one such person, whose past ties her with none other than the awful Professor Hojo and the attractive Mr. Valentine. She goes to the WRO for help in fixing the crappy life she was given, and in turn helps them hunt their newest enemy.
1. Chapter 1

**_Just a thought I had. :) I hope you like it. :) Please leave a review. :)_**

**_Note: Final Fantasy Vll uses the term [ ν ] - εуλ, which means 'era', to correctly date it's years. I had to Google it. ^^_**

***Update* I got the timeline messed up. . The experiment happened when she was twenty-five, not twenty. It's fixed now. :)**

Chapter 1: Answer

_It was 1984. I can't remember the exact month or day it happened, all those years ago, but I could never forget that year. I was a secretary for Professor Hojo of the Science Department; a young secretary who had just gotten out of college and hadn't really been exposed to the cruel world yet. That day, however, I found out just how unfair and cruel this world really was._

_I was at my desk, taking calls and writing down messages. It was the same thing over and over: Pick up the phone. Utter the same boring words into the receiver, "ShinRa Science Department, how can I help you?" Take notes. Then repeat the process until my brain was mush from all the meetings and business trips I had to plan._

_That's when it happened. The door slammed open and a Turk walked in, his fists clenched tightly, a look of rage scarring his face as he stormed over to me. The man was very attractive, it'd be a sin to lie about that, but the way he shook with a seething hatred made me reach under my desk for the security button, my finger hovered over it if he felt the need to empty the large gun he had into my body._

"_Hojo," He said through gritted teeth, "Where is he?"_

_I swallowed, pointing to the door to his office nervously. I was too scared to lie to him, for fear of becoming the target of his anger. He nodded and muttered thanks before walking to the door, pushing it open and slamming it shut. I stood up, hastily taking the tazzer my mother had gotten me out of my purse and holding it tightly in my hands, my finger on the trigger. If that guy was going to go crazy, I at least wanted to have a fighting chance._

_Voices in the other room started to rise into a shouting match, making the air around me tense and uncomfortable. The shouting continued for a few minutes until a loud gunshot ripped through the air. I jumped and felt my heart start to race. Tears began to stream down my face, a fear bubbling up in my stomach and pouring out my eyes. Had the Turk gone crazy? Did he kill the Professor? Was he going to kill me next?_

_Just as I was going to the door to get help, a woman ran into the room. I don't remember her features clearly, but I remember she was very pretty. I had never seen her before, but from the lab coat she wore, I guessed she was a doctor. She ran over to me and placed her hands on my shoulders. "Did a Turk walk in here? Please, it's very important!"_

_I nodded quickly and turned to the door where the shot resounded. "I-I heard gunshots," I stuttered, "Th-that man went in there!"_

_She looked over at the door, fear and despair marring her pretty face. "No, no…" She ran and grabbed the handles, "No, no, no! Vincent, stop!"_

"I-i_t's too dangerous!" I said, running after her as she opened the door and stepped inside. I struggled to remember self-defense, but all thoughts were pushed away when I saw the Turk laying on the floor, a pool of blood beginning to surround him. I screamed, dropping my tazzer and covering my mouth to stop my lunch from coming up my throat. Hojo stood above him, a gun in his hand, laughing madly. I couldn't look away from the body. The woman frowned, "W-what is this…?" with a stronger voice, she added, "Hojo…What have you done?!"_

_The scientist continued to laugh, "Hehehehe what's this? A witness?"_

_I began to back up, sensing what he was thinking. Apparently, the woman saw it too, and started to speak urgently. "Hojo, please, she didn't see anything…"_

"_Hehehehe, no matter," He said, grinning sickly, "she's seen it now, hasn't she?"_

_He lifted the gun. I didn't feel the pain until after the bullets tore through my skin, my organs and back, not until after the impact sent me flying into the door, my body sinking down and hitting the floor. Then I felt it. I screamed, pain ripping through me over an over, like a trapped fire within a closed room. The room darkened, blood coming up my throat and out my mouth, air leaving my lungs, darkness filling my vision…_

I screamed, sitting up in bed and grabbing my gun. My mind reeled, trying to remember what year it was. I racked my brain, panic building up in my chest, making it grow tight. Then I remembered. It was 0012. I gasped, taking a large breath of air to calm myself. Despite my air conditioner being on, I was cover in a layer of sweat, the kind you get when you wake up from bad nightmares.

I set my gun down as my eyes adjusted to the darkness of my living room. Thinking back, I realized I must have fell asleep on the couch after getting fired from work. I reached over and turned on a lamp, watching the dark fade away, like snow turning into water. I got up and walked to the small kitchen, stopping when I reached the fridge. I could see my reflection in the dark metal, and I looked at the dark circles under my eyes, my collarbone sticking out from the nights I've forgotten to eat, until my eyes trailed to the area that my tank top showed of my chest. There was a scar, in the middle of my rib cage, and it painfully reminded me of the two other identical scars on my midriff. The memory of that day began to resurface and I pushed it away, opening the fridge door and grabbing a beer. My clock read four in the morning, but I didn't care; hell, at least I was having one beer and not a pack of cigarettes.

I wasn't going to start looking for a new job until later on, so I sat down on the couch and turned on the TV, flicking through the channels. It seemed the only things on this early were infomercials, dirty movies, and the early morning news. I finally settled on the news and put the remote down, opening my beer and placing the top at my lips, taking a sip.

On TV, the female reporting was talking about the Deepground incident that had gone down two years ago. Even now, it was the hottest topic. "_It has been officially confirmed that ShinRa once played a part in the horrific experiments preformed underground-"_

"Idiots," I muttered against the opening of the bottle. After all these years, the people were just now putting the pieces of this screwed up puzzle together, even though there were obvious signs that some of the pieces just didn't fit quite right.

"_All of the Deepground soldiers have been eliminated by the WRO, and victims or kidnapping are returning safely to their homes." _The reporter glanced down at the papers in her hand, _"The WRO is looking for anyone who has been experimented on by the ShinRa Company and is alive and well. WRO president Reeve Tuesti has promised help to anyone affected by the corrupted company, and is currently offering jobs to said persons."_

"What?" I frowned, lowering the beer bottle. Why would the World Regenesis Organization want anything to do with ShinRa victims? Questions burned at the back of my throat, and I stared at the phone lying on the coffee table. My eyes flickered from the phone to the phone number on the screen. The news woman said the WRO's lines were always open, and besides, maybe I wouldn't be thrown out into the street by my landlord if I got a job there. Surely they wouldn't ask for details about my experience with ShinRa, I mean, that was personal information, right?

I picked up my phone and dialed the number. Placing the cell to my ear, I held my breath as the phone ringed. Finally, I heard a female's voice on the other line.

"_Hello, this is the World Regenesis Organization help line. What can I do for you?"_

I sat up, "Yes, I saw a thing on the news about help for ShinRa victims…"

"_Yes, we offer all the help we can to those whose fallen victim to their experiments."_

"Yeah, that's why I'm calling," I said, "I've been, um…suffering for a couple of years now."

"_Can you describe the experiment? This will help us connect you to the right rehabilitation program."_

I hesitated, the memories flooding back. "…I'd rather not."

"_I see," _The woman said, "_In that case, can you give me the date of your experiment?"_

"Well…" I cringed as I said, "…It was, ah, 1984."

There was silence. I bit my lip, waiting for a response. Then she spoke. "_How old are you?"_

"It happened when I was twenty-five," I winced, "I was born in 1959."

I heard a slight gasp and muffled speaking, like she was speaking to someone else. "Hello?" The line went dead. I blinked, "Hello..?" Seeing that I'd been hung up on, I sat back and tried to let what had just happen sink in. I called the WRO for help, told them my age, and then they hung up on me. Frowning I took another sip. Hopefully they didn't think I was crazy or some prank caller. ShinRa has done some pretty gruesome things, so I didn't think they'd take it like that. I don't even fully know what they did to me all those years, but this was my only chance to find out and try to fix it. I took another sip of beer and set it down on the coffee table, covering my mouth as I yawned and grabbed the remote, flicking through channels.

I must have fallen asleep again, because when I opened my eyes the clock said six thirty. My phone was ringing, and must have been the reason I had been awakened. Yawning, I reach over and grabbed it, pressing the call button and putting it up to my ear.

"Hello?" I asked, taking a swig of the alcoholic beverage.

"_Hello, this is Reeve Tuesti of the WRO. May I ask who this is?"_

I started to choke on the beer and spit it out, unable to respond. What the hell was this?

Mr. Tuesti's voice sounded confused. "_Is anyone there?"_

I coughed, "Y-yeah, this is Lila Crossway. Can I help you?"

"_Ah, yes. I believe you called earlier about our rehabilitation program. I need to ask you a few things."_

"Um, go ahead, I guess," I stood and went to the kitchen to make some breakfast. As I was grabbing the milk, he stared asking questions.

"_First, can you confirm your age?"_

I picked up a spoon and a bowl, balancing the phone between my cheek and shoulder. "Yes. I have my birth certificate somewhere in my bedroom."

"_Good. Can you tell me what happened on the day of your incident?"_

"I was working," I explained slowly, as to keep the flow of memories at bay, "Some guy'd been shot in the room next to me and I went in to look. The killer must have thought I saw him do it, because he shot me. I guess you could say I woke up a different person."

"_Did you know the person who shot you?"_

"He was my employer; I worked for ShinRa as a secretary." I didn't want to say it, his name, but I knew it was the only way to find answers. Shakily I said, "Professor Hojo was the one who shot that man, and I'm certain he was the one who did this to me."

There was silence on the other end. I waited, taking a bite of breakfast as I waited. Finally, he spoke. "_I see. Don't worry, Professor Hojo has preformed experiments on many people, and thankfully he is dead now. You told our help line that this happened in 1894, correct?"_

"…Yes."

"_Do you know the name of the man who was shot before you?"_

I didn't really see how that had anything to do with the situation, but I answered, "Um, I think the professor's assistant said it was something with a V…Vaan…? What was it….Vernon? No…" I scratched my head, trying to remember what that woman had called him. "Veld…? That's not it…"

"_Did it start with a Vin?"_

"Vincent!" I snapped my fingers, proud to have remembered. "His name was Vincent."

"…_I have someone who may know you. We'll need to meet in person, if you don't mind. What's your address?"_

Blinking, I told him my address and took another bite of cereal. "Um, okay. When-"

"_I will send someone to pick you up. Be ready around two o'clock."_

"No problem. See you then."

I hung up and ate the rest of my cereal, setting the now dirty dishes in the sink. Walking out of the kitchen, I walked the short distance to my bedroom and pulled out some skinny jeans from my drawer. It was the getting colder outside every day, so I grabbed a dark long-sleeved shirt and pulled it over my head, pulling it into place. I put on the jeans and grabbed some socks, picking up my boots and sitting on the bed to tug on both. I vaguely wondered if any running would be necessary, considering three-inch heels weren't that comfortable to move very quickly in, as I zipped up the knee-high boots and stood. I picked up my make-up bag and heading to the bathroom.

It was strange, what that scientist did to me. I live for a few years until something happens- last time I drowned -and then I'll go into a sort of death-like state. Like my body dies, but I don't. I wake up and suddenly I'm literally a different person, living a new life. In every life my appearance would change, sometimes a little, sometimes a lot. I've had black hair, blonde hair, brown hair, you name it.

Currently, I was in the middle of my twelfth life, living alone in a crappy apartment in Edge. I had still retained the auburn-red hair I had in my earlier life, but my eyes were green this time, not blue. I sighed as I opened the back and began applying black eye-liner. To be honest, I was sick of living and dying, and then repeating the process. It was painful to die, and painful to get attached to people, only to watch them die or die and then come back, and they don't know who you are. Suicide was obviously a waste of time- my third life ended that theory. Suffering was the worst; bleeding out, getting tortured, etc. I hated it, and that was why I wanted to find answers, to see if there was a chance I could just finally end my life for good. After living for this long, death no longer brought me fear, only comfort.

I put on mascara and was brushing my hair when I heard someone knock on the door. Glancing at the clock near my bed, I frowned. It was only eight forty-five, who would knock on my door now? For safety measures, I made sure my gun was in its holster on my hip and went to the door, peeking through the peep-hole. There was a tall man with spiked blonde hair and blue eyes, and a tall sword on his back.

I kept the chain locked into place, but opened the door just a little, enough to see him fully. "Who are you?" I asked.

The man seemed surprised to see me. "My name is Cloud. Reeve sent me to get a woman named," He glanced down at a piece of paper. "Lily Crossway. Is she your grandmother?"

If this were an anime, I'm sure a vein would've appeared on my forehead. I cleared my throat and put a hand on my hip. "It's Lila. And I don't look a day over twenty, thank you."

Cloud raised his eyebrows and a look of realization crossed his face. "Sorry-"

"Its fine," I waved the comment away and unlocked the door chain, opening it wider. "Come on in."

He was hesitant, but walked past me into the living room. Cloud looked around; no doubt looking at the only ten pictures I had hanging on the walls, his gaze moving over each slowly. "Are these your friends?" He asked, gesturing to them.

"No." Was my only response, as I didn't want to explain to it to him. He seemed to understand and said nothing more, his gaze landing on my half empty beer bottle, where it stayed for a moment before looking at me.

"You want something to drink?" I asked, "I can make coffee."

He shook his head, looking back to the pictures. I could tell there were questions burning in his mind, probably along the lines of 'Why does this woman have pictures of ten girls in her living room?', so I pointed to the first one and said, "That's what I used to look like."

The first picture of me showed me standing with my mother in front of the ShinRa building during its last stage of construction. It'd been faded and yellowed around the edges from old age. We were both smiling, looking just a like with black hair and blue eyes.

"You look happy." Cloud commented.

I nodded, "I was, back then."

Cloud looked at the other pictures, but didn't ask about them, having already figured out that they were all of me. He turned to me. "Reeve sent me early to because he had a meeting at two thirty."

"I just need to get my coat and I'll be ready to go." I walked into my bedroom, grabbed my white eider jacket and put it on, zipping it up. I also took my birth certificate if they didn't believe my age. I made sure my gun was loaded- I wasn't going anywhere without that -and met up with Cloud in the living room.

He was reading the dates at the bottom of each picture now. I watched the emotions change in his face. It was a slight change, but I still saw it; confusion, disbelief, then his face turned into one of understanding once he saw the eighth picture. I was wearing a sleeve-less dress in that one, and my scar was visible. He continued to read the dates until he reached the last photo, which was dated [ ν ] - εуλ 0007. I was never able to take a picture of me in my eleventh life, thankfully, and I hadn't had time to take one in this life yet.

I cleared my throat and he looked over at me. "I'm ready to go when you are."

He nodded and began heading for the door. I followed him out and closed my door, locking it and putting the key in my pocket. As we walked side by side down the hallway, I looked over at him. He was pretty attractive, and didn't seem older than twenty-five. From the way the subzero temperature didn't seem to affect him, I guessed those sky blue eyes of his weren't natural.

He was definitely the silent type, not saying a word as we headed down the flight of stairs leading to the second level. I always had a thing for silent men. "So," I said, trying to start a conversation, "How old are you, anyway?"

He looked over at me and, with a straight face, said, "Young enough to be your grandson."

I punched him in the shoulder. "I'm not that old!"

Cloud said nothing, just kept walking. I crossed my arms and we continued on in silence down the stairs until we reached the apartment parking lot. I looked around for a car, but Cloud walked over to a motorcycle. I instantly stopped in my tracks. "I'm not riding that thing."

"As long as you hold on, you're safe," He said, sitting in the seat.

"I'd rather walk," I said shaking my head, "The last time I was on a motorcycle, I crashed into a ditch and snapped my neck. Not fun."

Cloud frowned at my statement but didn't comment. Instead, he replied, "This isn't the safest part of town. You'd have a better chance riding with me." I could tell he was serious about this, and hid a smile. So this one was the heroic guy, eh? Protecting women and children? How flattering.

I considered my options: I was well-trained with a gun, but so were most of the thugs in this neighborhood. Not very eager to get felt up in an alley by some weird pervert, I reluctantly walked over to the bike and got on behind Cloud.

"I need a helmet, at least." I argued. Cloud raised an eyebrow. "Snapped neck, remember? I want to have a fighting chance."

"Here," He said, handing me a black helmet. While I pulled it on and adjusted the straps, I noticed Cloud put on a simple pair of sunglasses. I also noticed a scar right at the end of his brow, as if he'd been hit with a rock or something; probably from not wearing a helmet.

I wrapped my arms around his waist and held on tight as he started it up and took off, heading out of the parking lot and into the open street. Cloud went so fast I had to cling to him for dear life for fear of falling off and getting splattered against the concrete.

This man was leading me to the person who could answer my questions. Part of me didn't want to know why or how this happened to me, but a stronger part of me was determined to find out, and that determination made me hold on as tight as I could.

My life was going to change for the better.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Forgive me if there's any mistakes; I'm uploading this before bed. Thanks to everyone who favorited, followed, and reveiwed! Enjoy!**_

Chapter2: Questions

By the time we arrived at the WRO, I had firmly decided that I was never, ever riding on a motorcycle again; especially with Cloud, who I'm sure went well above the speed-limit while driving through Edge.

We were in a much better part of the city, and I noticed that there were more people walking on the streets than there were back home. A group of kids were doing double-dutch on the sidewalk just a few feet from us, and one of the little girls turned and waved at us with a big grin on her face. I smiled and waved back.

I quickly jumped off the bike, unlatched the helmet, and tossed it Cloud. While he was putting it back into where he got it from, I turned at looked up at the WRO building. It wasn't exactly what I thought it would like- to be honest it looked more like a health center than a volunteer organization- but times were hard, and I couldn't really blame them for low-budgets.

"So this is the WRO?" I asked, placing my hands on my hips. "I thought it'd be…bigger."

"There are floors underground," Cloud said, walking past me.

The man moved so quickly I had to run to catch up to him. "Hey, wait! Do you know who I'm meeting?"

He grabbed the door handle and pulled it opened, holding it for me. "Yeah."

Cloud nodded to the woman behind the desk and she nodded back, picking up the phone on her desk and speaking into it briefly. As we walked down the hall, going past several closed doors, I continued to question him.

"Well who is it?"

"A friend."

"What's his name?"

"You'll find out when we get there."

"But how come-"

Cloud turned to face me, "You ask too many questions."

"Don't I have a right to?" I asked, "I am the one who needs help, after all."

"Reeve will answer all of your questions once you meet with him," The young man said, turning and walking further down the hall.

Pouting, I followed him until we reached an elevator. He pushed the up button and stood back, waiting until the doors opened to step inside. I stood next to him in awkward silence, hoping that he'd start a conversation, but to no luck. The elevator was incredibly slow, and I began to get bored. Cloud didn't seem to mind at all, however.

Finally the elevator door dinged, signaling we were on the second floor. Sighing again, I let Cloud exit the elevator before going after him and walking down a brightly lit hallway. There were only a few doors on this floor, making it seem empty and boring.

Cloud took me to the very last door and knocked on it, saying, "It's Cloud. I have the girl-" Looking at me, he changed his wording, "-young woman you wanted to meet."

A muffled voiced answered back through the door, "Come in."

Cloud turned the knob and pushed the door open, allowing me to enter first. I walked into the room, feeling a sense of nervousness drop into my stomach like a sack of rocks. I wasn't sure who I was meeting with- Reeve had said he had someone who knew me, but what if he was mistaken? I didn't want to get my hopes up just to go home empty handed. Or, what if they did know me, but didn't recognize me? The experiment _was_ a good two decades ago, and I obviously look nothing like I did back then. And then there was the possibility of whoever it was that claimed to know me being old and unable to correctly remember back to that day.

I saw a middle-aged man behind an important-looking desk, fiddling with some sort of toy. It looked like a black and white cat, with a crown on its head. Its back was open, and the man was using a screwdriver to tweak a few things here and there. He seemed so immersed in what he was doing a part of me didn't want to interrupt. So, I walked a little closer to the desk, standing behind a brown-leather chair, and waited for him to finish. A few minutes past by and there was no sign of him stopping his work; I cleared my throat in an attempt to get his attention. He finally looked up at me, seeming to acknowledge my presence.

"Ah, hello there, I'm Reeve Tuesti," He introduced himself, "You must be Lila's granddaughter. Was she unable to come?"

I held back my irritation; have these guys not seen a picture of me yet? I'm not one to brag, but I was much more proud of this body than I was of any of my last ones. Anyway, I forced a sheepish smile and said, "I'm Lila Crossway, actually."

Reeve's eyes widen a bit and he stood up, setting down the cat toy on his desk. "I apologize," He said, holding out his hand, "Welcome to the WRO, Ms. Crossway."

I nodded and shook his hand, "Thanks for having me on such short notice."

"No problem. Please, have a seat and we can get started."

Handing him my birth certificate, I sat down in the chair and crossed my legs, glancing around the room while he was busy getting papers out of his desk. It certainly did fit the description of an organization leader's office- the books were lined alphabetically on the shelves, the pictures on the wall were of landscapes and scenery, and there was hardly any sign of the man's personality; no quirky knickknacks or family portraits, not even a funny book or two rested on the bookshelf. It was all strictly official.

"Now, Ms. Crossway," Reeve began, sitting down in his chair, "You claim to have been born in 1959, however you're physical appearance makes you look only twenty-one." He stopped talking for a moment, staring at the faded paper I had given him and then sighed, "Surely you can see how this is hard for me to believe."

I nodded, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "I know it sounds like I made it up- and there's no real way for me to prove it's true -but I'm sure there's some kind of document stating my death in 1984, there has to be."

Reeve peered at me, as if trying to tell whether I was telling the truth or lying to his face. Finally he said, "I'm going to ask a few questions, and I'd like you to answer to your best ability."

"Sure, ask away," I shrugged. As long as it helped my case, I'd try just about anything.

The first question was definitely not what I expected. "What was one of the first memories of your life that you find significant?"

"I was seventeen, and the ShinRa Company had just begun construction on the plate above Midgar," I said, "I remember going to see it with my parents when I graduated from high school." The question had caught me off guard, but it was easy to answer.

"You graduated at seventeen?" Reeve asked, raising his eyebrows.

I shrugged, "Just like my father did. I was supposed to graduate from college, but…"

He nodded, looking over my birth certificate again. "Do you remember anything from the experiment?"

"Just bits of conversation…" I said slowly, "…I was unconscious for most of it. When I woke up, I was lying on the side of the road in the Slums."

"Anything else?"

I hesitated. This was the man who was helping the world recover from the hell it was put through, so why did the thought of telling him scare me? He already thought I was lying about my age, and the thought of dying and being brought back in another body sounded so ridiculous and fake, he'd probably throw me out into the street.

"Alright, this is going to sound crazy…and I don't blame you for not believing," I took a breath before continuing. "If you were to shoot me in the chest with a gun, I would only die temporarily. I would wake up in a different body. This started happening right after I woke up from the experiment."

A few moments passed and there was no reply from the middle-aged man. The more time it took for him to answer, the more anxious I grew. There was no way he'd believe me, there were too many loopholes in my story: there was no way of telling if my birth certificate was real, I looked twenty-five, and we lived in a world where morals were screwed up and anyone would lie if it meant surviving.

I never really cared that much about how my life changed. Over the years, I thought there was nothing I could do to change it, so I just accepted the change and struggled to deal with the backlash. But now, now there was someone willing to help me, and I wasn't about to let that go.

After five minutes that felt like hours passed, Reeve spoke. "How many times have this…'death'…happened to you?" He asked, not meeting my gaze.

"Eleven times," I said, looking down at my hands, "This is my twelfth life."

More silence. More anxiety. I could feel the fear building up in my chest, making my arms shake. Before he could notice, however, I gripped the seat until my knuckles turned white in an attempt to calm myself; it would look back if I broke down now.

Reeve finally looked at me in the eye. The way his eyes stare so intensely at me let me know this man was dead serious, and his tone of voice backed that up. "Under normal circumstances, I would ask for some proof of this ability," Reeve sighed, "However, I can't just shoot you in the chest, especially since there's no way of confirming what you're telling me is the truth."

The fear I had managed to push down shot back up to my throat.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Crossway, but without solid evidence, there's not much I can do," Reeve shook his head apologetically.

I swallowed thickly, a strange disappointment washing over me. "So…you're saying you don't have anything for me..?"

"If you had something other than a piece of paper, then I might be able to help you. But if that's not the case, then you're better off searching for answers elsewhere."

Humiliation hit me hard in the gut. Tears stung my eyes, but I blinked them back; crying would just make me seem more like a fake, and it wasn't worth it to embarrass myself further.

"I understand," I said, standing and trying to smile, "Thank you for taking the time to see me."

Reeve nodded and stood as well out of respect. He shook my hand again and handed me my birth certificate, "I hope you find what you're looking for."

I didn't say anything else as I took it from him and hurried out of the room as fast as I could._ He probably thinks I'm crazy._

It was probably obvious from the look on people's faces as I passed that I had been rejected. I could feel my face growing hot from embarrassment and my stomach churned and twisted the feeling of wanting to hide under a rock for the rest of eternity growing worse as I headed out the front doors to the street.

Cloud was leaning against his bike, no doubt waiting to take me home. I didn't feel like riding the awkward ride to my apartment with him, so I turned and walked past him.

He looked up at me as I past. "I'll take you home," He said, seemingly uninterested in whether I had gotten help or not.

"No thank you," I choked out, not bothering to hold back my tears of humiliation, "I'll be fine on my own."

"It's not safe," Cloud replied, walking after me.

I started to walk faster, not wanting to add crying in front of a stranger to the list of stupid things I had done that day. Ignoring Cloud's voice, I began to cross the street.

Tears had obscured my vision, and I didn't know what was coming until I heard Cloud's voice become strained and urgent.

"Lila, get out of the way!"

I turned my head just in time to see two bright headlights shine in my face before something hard slammed into my side. The force of the impact sent me to the ground, concrete tearing across my skin as something heavy landed on me. The side of my head smacked the pavement and bright lights exploded in my vision, pain throbbing dully in its wake. My body felt like lead and I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to push the aching away.

"Oh, God!"

"S-She ran out in front of me- I didn't even- oh, Christ, is she dead?!"

I heard a woman scream and a man's panicked voice nearby, but my mind was too fogged up for me to answer. Finally, I opened my eyes slowly.

The first thing I saw was the sky.

"Are you alright?" I heard a deep, cool voice right in my ear, almost monotone, and turned my head to see the source.

The second thing I saw was a pair of blood-red eyes, connected to a pale face hovering inches from my own. That was when I realized that there was a man laying on top of me.

And a very attractive man, no less.

I could feel the all the blood in my body shoot to my face and it heated up. _Okay, okay, just play it cool. You have a _very _handsome man on top of you. Whatever you do, don't mess this up._

I blinked. "Y-yeah."

The man pushed himself off me, standing to his feet and looking back at the car that had stopped in the middle of the road. Cloud ran over to us, looking very concerned.

"What the hell were you thinking?" He asked me, "You could've been seriously injured."

I rubbed the back of my head, embarrassment weighing down further on me. "Sorry...I didn't see the car coming."

Cloud just shook his head and turned to the man who had apparently saved me. "Are you alright, Vincent?"

_Vincent? _I frowned, looking up at him.

He nodded silently. His long black hair tossed slightly in the wind, a bandana covering his forehead and the collar of his stunning red cloak hiding the bottom half of his face.

I held back a smirk. Two silent, attractive men in one day; I was on a roll.

"Here," Cloud bent down and grabbed my elbow, gripping my side with his other arm and helping me to my feet.

My legs felt shaky and it was hard to stand on my own, probably from the near-death incident. Once I found my footing, I smiled at Cloud, "I'm fine, now, thanks."

He sighed, "Try not to get killed next time."

I felt something drip down my cheek and wiped it away, seeing that my fingers had been stained with my blood. I felt a bit guilty. I was so wrapped up in my own humiliation that I didn't see the car coming… What if I had died? Sure, I would come back to life, but the feeling of death was not something I was eager to experience. I couldn't help but feel a little bit like a child who got into trouble with his parents.

The man who had almost hit me came over and began questioning me. "Hey, are you okay? I-I'm so sorry-"

"Don't be!" I shook my head, "It was my fault, really. I wasn't watching where I was going, but I'm fine."

"Thank goodness," He sighed in relief, the stress fading from his face and leaving a tired look in its place.

After some more reassuring, the man walked over to whom I assume was his wife and hugged her, making me feel a little more guilty; if I had been hit, who knows what that would've done to them.

Turning to my savior, I held out my hand, "Thank you for saving me. I'm Lila Crossway."

He didn't shake my hand, instead just staring at my hand as if it were contaminated. "Vincent," Was all he said.

Cloud looked over at me, eyeing my torn shirt and jeans. "You should go to the hospital just in case you need stitches."

"I'll be fine. I've stitched myself up a few times, so I think I can handle it," I said, immediately shaking my head. Hospitals weren't my favorite place to be, for an obvious reason.

Looking at me skeptically, Cloud said, "Are you sure?"

I nodded, smiling quickly at him and stepping backwards. "Yeah, I got this. Thanks again for all your help. You too, Mr. Vincent," Waving, I called out, "I'll see you guys around town!"

I turned and continued to walk down the street, trying to navigate my way through the unfamiliar part of town. By this time my mind had realized, 'hey, I was almost in an accident', and pain had started to form in the back of my head and from the way my face stung, I guessed there were multiple cuts on my cheeks and forehead. My jeans were also ripped and blood was beginning to seep through a little on my legs and knees, but I could tell they were minor.

I ignored the stares of people as I past them on the street, keeping my gaze low on the ground.

It took me thirty minutes to get to the apartments. By that time, it had begun to rain, soaking me and anyone else outside completely. I held onto the railing as I made my way up the steps, being careful not to slip and bust my ass on the wet metal. Walking all the way down to the last door, I pulled out my keys.

"I see you took a stroll in the rain, eh, Miss Lila?" My neighbor, an elderly man named George Rich laughed from his door across the hall.

I smiled at him, "Yeah, I guess I did, didn't I?"

Unlocking my door, I walked inside and took off my boots, setting them by the door along with my jacket. I went to the bathroom to see how bad the damage was.

Peering into the mirror, I saw that it wasn't too bad, a scrape next to my right eye being the biggest problem. There were a few scratches on my left cheek, nothing that wouldn't heal within a day or two.

I peeled off the sopping wet shirt and threw it into the bathtub, going into my bedroom to find a tank top and my first-aid kit. After finding both I headed back into the bathroom and washed off my face, treating the long scrape first. Blood was already starting to clot there- the bleeding had stopped –and it stung when I went to wipe away the small concrete pieces that had gotten stuck there when I hit the ground. It didn't look like it needed stitches, but I still put a bandage over it just in case it was in danger of getting infected.

After stripping out of my wet jeans and socks, I cleaned up the cuts and scrapes on my legs, wincing every time the cloth made contact with the sensitive skin tissue. My head was still hurting like crazy, so I put on some shorts and went to the kitchen for some pain medicine.

I sighed; I had wasted half a day getting no results when I could've been looking for a job. Pouring myself a glass of water to take the two pills with, I frowned to myself.

Vincent…that name sounded so familiar. And that man looked a little familiar too, but I couldn't remember where I had seen him before. He definitely wasn't the kind of guy you saw walking around on the street, that was for sure.

I took a gulp of water and popped the pills in my mouth, swallowing both at the same time.

There was only a week before rent was due, so I needed to find a job fast. There was no way I was becoming a prostitute- I didn't have the body for it –so I grabbed a beer from the fridge and walked to the living room, sitting down on the couch. Grabbing the newspaper from the coffee table, I flipped through it until I got to the 'help wanted' ads.

_The Boy's Club now hiring new strippers, no experience needed!_ No thank you.

_Tom's Deli looking for waitresses and busboys! _The last deli I worked in I got fired from, so nope.

_The Strife Delivery Service in need of help transporting goods; no experience needed! _That sounded promising, but I had bad motion sickness so I'd have to refuse.

I flipped through some more, but the rest were just secretaries for ShinRa or window cleaners and volunteer work- all jobs I wasn't interested in.

Tossing the paper onto the table, I sighed and put my face into my hands. What was I going to do? I wasn't about to live out on the streets, at least not while I was able to work. Opening up my beer, I took a sip and groaned. I hated job hunting with a passion.

I was about to give up and call one of the strip-joints when an ad caught my eye.

_7__th__ Heaven; in need of barmaids, no experience necessary._

I raised an eyebrow. I had heard of the 7th Heaven bar, but I'd never been inside before. Apparently it's been around since before Meteor, which means it must be pretty popular. And the more popular it was, the more people, and the more people, the more tips. I could make twice the paycheck in one night. Grinning, I picked up the phone and dialed the number given in the ad's information box.

So maybe I was rejected by the WRO. But I could survive just like I always have; working to make ends meet. And who knew, maybe I'd find information on my own.


	3. Chapter 3

_**I'd write more, but 1 review isn't very encouraging. :/ It took me forever to write this measly 2,000-something chapter because of lack of inspiration. Enjoy, and remember: more reviews means more chapters!**_

Chapter3: Conversations

Fog floated from my mouth as I took a breath, quickly disappearing into nothing in the air, as if it had never existed.

It had been three days since my encounter with the WRO. Since then, I had phoned in for a barmaid job at 7th Heaven, went in for an interview, and got the job without a hitch. Now, I was on my way for my first day on the clock.

Ever since my embarrassing rejection at the WRO, all I could think of was finding answers. After my third life, I just gave up on finding solutions, but something about that morning when I saw the number on T.V. sparked the hopeful flame of determination. I made a few calls, searching around in the phone book, but unfortunately didn't find anyone alive in Edge who had worked for ShinRa at the same time I had. A few had relatives that worked in different branches of the company, but they were either deceased or had moved far away to escape ShinRa's wrath. In other words, I was stuck. It was not like I had access to confidential files, so the only thing I could do to get the search off the ground would be to find someone who just happened to be there while I was unconscious, or someone who had permission to those files and was willing to share them with me.

A car honked loudly somewhere, snapping me from my thoughts. I shivered and tried to make use of the time I was wasting waiting for the light to turn red.

The street was crowded with people going to work, each one as cold and uncomfortable as the next in the seemingly subzero temperature. I shifted, completely unused to being surrounded by people on all sides like this. After ten minutes of waiting for the crossing light to come on, I was getting irritated with the cars that kept passing by.

It was thirty-five degrees outside and snow had begun to fall, sprinkling anyone without a hood or cap with a thin layer of frozen water. Since it was so cold, I had traded my eider jacket for a black trench coat that was long enough to reach my bottom thighs, the double breasted material enough to keep the low temperature from reaching my upper body. However, my legs were just about frozen solid, being covered by nothing but dark skinny jeans, and I bet my feet were blue even inside my brown boots.

The street light finally turned red, the walk light went from red to green and everyone started to cross. I followed the crowd, glancing around at the other men and women who were heading to the same district I was. It seemed like the Planet was totally different than it was when I was twenty-five.

Meteor had literally knocked the world off its feet. There were more people than there were jobs to fill, so many of the population were in poverty, barely able to scrape by. Gil was hard to come by, so jobs didn't pay much and many people were forced to work hard labor for less than minimum wage or do volunteer work for nothing at all. Not only that, but the Planet had already been through several circles of hell and back: The Wutai War, Sephiroth going bat-shit crazy and trying (and nearly succeeding) in destroying everything, Geostigma whipping out nearly half the children population, and then the Deepground attack. Even though we were starting to recover from the Geostigma Epidemic, there were still some cases scattered throughout the city, and children who'd lost their parents to Meteor, Geostigma, and Deepground still lived on the streets, roaming about in gangs or groups. After all that, the WRO was the only organization willing to fix up the world that many figured would be shattered again anyway.

There was no upper-class, and the line that separated the middle and lower classes was thin and easily broken.

"Hey, lady! Move it!"

I jumped and started walking faster; I was so trapped in my thoughts I hadn't noticed that I had slowed down in the middle of the street.

It took me thirty minutes, but I finally made it to 7th Heaven. The bar wasn't open yet, so I knocked on the door, hoping to get out of the snow. It wasn't even three minutes after that the door opened and I was ushered in by the bar owner, a woman named Tifa Lockhart.

"Welcome to your first day!" The dark haired woman said smiling, "You can park your car around the back if you want."

I shook my head, returning the smile, "I don't have a car; can't afford one."

Tifa tilted her head, patting me on the shoulders. "You walked all the way here? I can give you a ride sometime."

"I might take you up on that." I was already starting to like Tifa.

She smiled again and walked over to the bar. It was cozy and warm in the room, so I took off my coat and hung it up, shivering when my cold hair brushed against my neck, the cool feeling doubling when the metal of my necklace hit my skin. Pulling my sleeves down, I made sure there wasn't any fuzz on the black long sleeve shirt l wore. Over the phone Tifa had told me there wasn't really a uniform, but dark colors were recommended. "It's ridiculous how dirty your clothes can get in one shift," she had said, "especially when the drinking hour comes around."

"So," I started, heading over to her, "What do you want me to do?"

Tifa handed me an apron, "Can you wipe down the tables for me? We're opening in just a few seconds."

I nodded and took the apron, tying it around my waist and taking the wet rag she gave to me. Rolling up my sleeves, I started on the first table, cleaning it as thoroughly as I could before moving on to the next one. Tifa walked went to the doors and flipped over the 'open' sign. In this weather, it wouldn't be long before the place was pack.

An hour passed, and I turned out to be right.

"Lila, tables five and eight!" Tifa shouted, giving me two steaming plates of breakfast on each arm.

"I'm on it!" I struggled to balance all four, wincing a little from the heat of the glass as it burned my forearms.

Twisting past the full tables, I managed to make it to table five without spilling anything. "Alright, who ordered the bacon and eggs?"

The man sitting to the left briefly raised his hand and I set the plate down in front of him, turning to his friend on the right, "And you ordered…?"

"The scrambled egg sandwich," He said. I nodded and placed his food in front of him.

I heard a shout across the room. "Hey, we haven't got our food yet!"

"I'm coming!" I shouted back, hurrying over to the hungry group. "Okay, cherry pie goes to…?"

"Me," The woman smiled. I smiled back and set her plate down.

"And you ordered the over-easy eggs, pancakes and sausage, right?" I asked the man across from her. He nodded and I gave him his plate, taking a long breath before adding, "Have a great day!"

"Tables four and two!" Tifa shouted and I was off, scurrying here and there in an attempt to please everyone.

An hour later, I walked over to the bar, where Tifa was watching over the costumers with a watchful eye. I sat down in one of the chairs and crossed my arms on the smooth wood, laying my head on my arms as feeling fatigue set in already. I heard the younger woman laugh.

"Tired already, Lila?"

I yawned. "Yeah. Is it always this busy?"

"Busy? There are only five tables taken up," Tifa snorted, "Lunch time is when it gets crazy around here."

That information made me groan once more. "At least I won't get bored."

The bartender just smiled and pulled out a wash rag, grabbing a cup to shine it. "So where are you from, Lila?"

I turned my head and looked up at her. "Mideel," I shrugged.

"Do you have any family? A husband, maybe?"

"Nope. No kids, either."

"What about a boyfriend?"

I grinned, "Single forever."

Tifa laughed, "I'm sure you'll find someone."

"Sure. So what about you?" I asked, now interested in the topic. "Where are you from?"

A sad smile played on her lips as she answered. "Me? Nibelheim."

"Pretty backwater town," I said, picking my words carefully. I remembered the Nibelheim Incident. Was she really born there, or did she live as a replacement like the others after the fire? I knew it wasn't my place to ask; if she had been born there, bringing up the fire might trigger bad memories.

I looked over the numerous pictures a lined thoughtfully across the back wall, seeing many pictures of certain people, namely a young woman in a pink dress and a man with blonde hair. There was one picture in particular that caught my eye. It was of a teenager who I assumed was Tifa standing next to a boy with black hair. It looked as if there had been another standing with them, but the picture was torn in half. I didn't bother asking about it.

"Who's the girl?" I pointed to another small picture of a young girl with red hair. "Is she yours?"

Tifa smiled and shook her head. "That's Shelke. She lives here, too."

So I nodded towards a photo on the wall instead and commented, "I see you have kids."

"That's Marlene; we watch after her while her dad works," Tifa said as she smiled, pointing to the youngest in the photo, a small girl with black hair. Her finger moved to the older boy, who had a bright smile. "And that's Denzel. We adopted him a few years ago."

I sat up and peered at the picture, glancing between Tifa and the kids. Tifa was staring at the picture with a soft kindness, and I smiled. My smile widened into a grin as I noticed another person in the picture; I couldn't make out his face, but I know an attractive man when I see one.

"Is that your _boyfriend_?" I asked slyly, "He's a hottie."

Tifa's face turned seven shades of red and she waved the statement away. "It's not like that-"

"Oh, come now, Tifa! You said 'we' earlier, so something's got to give."

"I did not- Cloud, welcome back!" She suddenly cut off and waved to someone walking in.

Turning, I saw none other than Mr. Silent Hero saunter up to the bar. I waved to him, sending a flirty wink his way, "Hey, handsome. Fancy seeing you here."

"Hey, Tifa." Cloud, who was still dressed like he was three days ago with the addition of a light jacket, raised an eyebrow. He didn't seem to be impressed by my charm. "What're you doing here?"

"I work here now."

He sat next to me. "Hm. I see your face has healed up."

That was true; the long scratch near my eye had healed up to a thin scab and the small cuts on my cheeks were nearly invisible. It looked like I had fallen rather than narrowly escaped a car accident.

Tifa frowned as she set a glass of water in front of the blonde man, "Did something happen?"

"Idiot almost got hit by a car."

"_Almost_. And I'm not an idiot."

"Why on earth were you in the road?" Tifa asked, raising an eyebrow.

I shrugged, not bothering to explain myself. Cloud didn't say anything either, and I was grateful; how embarrassing would it be to tell your new boss that everyone at the WRO thought you were crazy?

Tifa seemed to get the message and turned to Cloud. "So you're on break?"

"Yeah," He nodded.

The pieces clicked into place and I looked between Cloud and Tifa. My grin from before returned, and I waited until a comfortable silence settled in to strike.

"So," I said slowly, "How long have you two been together?"

"Lila! We're not-" Tifa stared at me, her face going red again. However, Cloud simply glanced at me with indifference.

"Is it that obvious?" He asked, taking a sip of his water.

Seeing Tifa's jaw drop was enough to make me cackle.

"So, Cloud!" She said suddenly, "How were the morning deliveries?"

Cloud shrugged, seemingly oblivious to her embarrassment. "They were okay. Are the kids up?"

"Yeah," She nodded, grabbing a glass to clean, "They have school, remember?"

"Right. It's weird not having them around."

"Actually, I need to wake Shelke up. She said she wanted to start helping with the bar."

As Tifa disappeared upstairs, I turned in my chair to view the costumers behind me. Cloud took another sip of his water.

"So do you work here?" I asked him.

He shook his head. Without looking at me, he replied, "I run a delivery service."

"Ah, okay." I puffed out my cheeks, becoming bored with the lack of activity. The costumers had all gotten their food and were enjoying the moment of relaxation before work.

A question burned in my head, but I kept it to myself. I looked over at Cloud, and saw him staring intensely into his glass, seemingly lost in his thoughts. As I turned my head to watch the bar once more, he spoke.

"How can you prove it?"

"Hmm?" I raised an eyebrow.

"How can you prove you were killed in 1848?"

From the sound of his voice and the way he wouldn't look at me, I knew this had been on his mind ever since we met.

I lowered my voice and leaned towards him. Without thinking, I said, "I knew about Sephiroth before ShinRa did."

Cloud turned his head and looked me in the eye, his look turning colder than any I had ever seen. Before anything was said, Tifa came down the stairs with a girl, who looked no older than nine, trotting behind her.

The red haired girl, Shelke, stopped once she saw me and stared.

"You…" She said, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, "You're…"

I tilted my head, confused. "Do I know you…?"

Suddenly, Shelke darted over and hugged me tightly. "You're alive!"


End file.
